


(in time these wounds will) show us what's real

by Spikedluv



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Community: trope_bingo, Happy Ending, Kris-centric - Freeform, M/M, cameo by David Cook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment Kris and Adam were secret rendezvous-ing at a lake house that Kris had borrowed, and the next a plane fell out of the sky, turning Kris’ world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kris-centric. Little bit of angst with a happy ending, natch. Written for round four of Trope Bingo on DW for the _presumed dead_ square. Title taken from Kris’ song “In Time.” Cameo by David Cook and Cook/Archie implied.
> 
> Written: April 2, 2015

Kris caught the news at Ugly Mug, where he’d stopped for a cup of coffee on his way home. He liked stopping by, if only to see which ugly mug he’d get to use. He took a photo of the ugly mug today’s coffee had been served in, and then posted it to Instagram.

_gettin coffee @uglymugs #thatisoneuglymug_

While he was there, Kris used their wifi to catch up on Twitter. On his way out, one of the guys who’d been staring at Kris stopped him and asked if he and his friend could take a photo with him. Kris readily agreed. He was a nice guy and he’d have agreed in any case, but he also hoped that this sighting would make it onto the internet for those who followed that sort of thing, to beef up his ‘just bumming around Nashville while my wife and son are out of town’ story.

If he hadn’t stuck around a few more seconds for the photo Kris would’ve missed it, but as it was, he was still there when the story came on the news – a small plane had crashed after taking off from a private airfield outside of Nashville. There were no survivors, and authorities weren’t releasing the names of the victims pending notification of their families.

Kris felt the blood drain from his face, felt numbness wash over him. He managed to excuse himself without being rude and got out of there as quickly as he could. Even standing outside on the sidewalk there didn’t seem to be enough air for him to breathe.

The walk to where he’d parked the car happened in a fog. Kris didn’t remember getting out his keys to unlock the door, only knowing he must have when he realized he was sitting in the driver’s seat holding his keys so tightly the edges were cutting into his palm.

It took two tries to get the key into the ignition and his hands shook so hard Kris almost dropped his phone when he pulled it out of his pocket. He swiped his thumb across the screen and brought up his contacts. He didn’t even have to scroll because Adam was right there at the top, listed as “1" with no name attached.

Kris hesitated, his thumb hovering over the contact. The fear gripping him was horrible, but it might be better than knowing for sure. Swallowing hard, Kris opened the contact and pressed call.

The wait for the call to go through seemed interminable. When it finally did, there was no ring – Kris was dumped directly into voice mail.

“No,” Kris said. “No, no, no.”

He ended the call and tried again, once more getting Adam’s voice mail. It could’ve been because Kris had just called and that call hadn’t had a chance to disconnect, so he waited a few seconds that felt more like hours, and tried a third time.

Kris felt like throwing the phone when his call went to voice mail again. He didn’t know what to do, so he just stared at the screen as if it might tell him, but the ended call screen just stared back, as if mocking his inability to _think_.

Kris opened the contact back up and studied the other numbers listed there. Leila was listed as the fax number, and he had her number only as an emergency. Even though it felt like he was dying a little bit inside, Kris hesitated to call her. And not just because Leila wasn’t his biggest fan these days. It was possible that he was wrong, and Kris didn’t want to scare her. And if he was right . . .

If he was right, Kris didn’t know if she’d want to hear it from him. Though it might be slightly better than an impersonal notification from a stranger.

Kris stared at the contact until the screen went dark. He took a deep breath and unlocked the screen. He made the call and waited, breathing through the silence, counting the rings, one, two . . .

“Hello, Kris?” Leila said, sounding surprised to hear from him.

“Leila, hey,” Kris said. He had to clear his throat so he could speak. “Sorry to bother you.”

“What’s wrong, Kris?” Leila said. Not unkindly, but she knew that Kris wouldn’t be calling her unless it was important.

“Have you . . .” Kris’ voice caught. “Have you heard from Adam?”

“Not since about an hour ago,” Leila said. “He called to tell me he might be late getting home because of a problem with the plane.”

 _A problem with the plane_ Kris’ chest felt too tight. _A problem with the plane_ Kris closed his eyes and replayed the footage of the crashed plane. _A . . ._

“Kris!” Leila said, sounding both exasperated and worried, as if she’d called his name more than once.

“Sorry, I . . .”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Kris said, barely a whisper. “Maybe nothing.” But he didn’t believe it, and he could tell that Leila knew that.

“Did the two of you have a fight?”

“No, no, nothing like . . .”

“Tell me,” Leila demanded.

“There was a plane crash,” Kris said. “Private airfield, no survivors, and I can’t get a hold of Adam. His phone goes right to voice mail.”

There was a crash on the other end of the phone, as if Leila had dropped something, or fallen.

“Leila?”

“I’m going to try to call Adam,” Leila said. Her voice was even, but Kris could hear the underlying concern.

“Okay.”

“You keep trying, too.”

“Okay,” Kris said. “Call me if you hear . . .” _Anything._ “. . . from Adam.”

“I will,” Leila said. “You, too.”

“Yes,” Kris said, but he was speaking to dead air.

Kris made himself wait a minute, sixty long seconds, before calling Adam again, in order to give Leila a chance to get through. He clenched the phone in his hand while he watched the seconds tick down. At the one minute mark, Kris called Adam. He choked out a sob when the call went straight to voice mail, even though he’d been expecting it.

This time he listened to Adam’s voice all the way through. _Hey, it’s Adam, you know what to do._

“I love you,” Kris said, tears burning his eyes as he thought about the possibility of never being able to say those words to Adam again. “Call me when you get this.”

Kris’ hand shook as he wondered if Adam would get that message. A horn honked and someone laughed, the sounds jolting Kris out of his dark thoughts. He looked around. People walked down the sidewalk, going about their lives as if his entire world hadn’t just been shifted on its axis. He couldn’t stay here, but he didn’t know where else to go.

The house was empty because Katy had taken Oliver to visit her sister in Arkansas, but Kris didn’t know if he wanted to be alone. He couldn’t call his parents, or Daniel, not about this. Cale didn’t understand Kris’ “thing with Adam,” as he called it, but he’d probably wait for news with Kris, hold his hand if he needed it, pray with him.

Kris opened his contacts, but instead of opening Cale’s, he called Cook. Right now he needed to talk to someone who knew how it felt to be in a relationship you were keeping on the down low, someone who knew Adam and didn’t judge him for breaking up Kris’ marriage, or worse.

The phone rang enough times that Kris thought it might go to voice mail, but finally Cook answered. “Kris, hi!”

“Hey, David,” Kris said, trying to sound normal, like his heart hadn’t broken apart inside his chest. “Are you in town?”

“Yeah,” Cook said. “What’s up?”

“Do you . . . ?” Kris began. “Are you free?”

“I can be free,” Cook said. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Kris said, then, “No. I don’t know. Maybe? It’s just . . .”

Background noise at the other end of the call cut off as if Cook had closed himself in another room. “Kris, what is it?”

“Did you see the news about the plane crash?” Kris asked.

“I heard about it, no survivors, right? Why?”

Kris’ throat closed up and he almost couldn’t get the words out. “Adam left this afternoon. And he’s not answering his phone.”

“Jesus,” Cook said. “It could just be a coincidence; he’s probably fine.”

“I know,” Kris said, wishing he could believe it.

“Where are you?” Cook asked.

“Parked outside Ugly Mugs,” Kris told him.

“I’ll be right there,” Cook said.

“You don’t have to,” Kris said.

“Are you in any shape to drive?”

Kris looked down at the hand resting on his leg, the one he’d had to curl into a fist to keep it from shaking. “Not really.”

“Then don’t try, I’ll be right there.”

“Alright,” Kris agreed.

“You need me to stay on the phone with you?” Cook asked.

“No, I . . .” _Need to try Adam again._ “. . . should call Leila again, see if she’s heard anything.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Cook promised, and then he was gone.

Kris called Adam again, hanging up before Adam’s recorded message got past, “Hey.” He called Leila, who picked up on the first ring.

“Have you heard anything?” she said.

“No,” Kris said. “You?” Even though it was pretty clear that she hadn’t.

“No,” Leila said. “I’ve got to believe that’s good news, right? I mean, if Adam was on that plane they’d have contacted me by now,” she ended hopefully.

“Yes,” Kris agreed, but he couldn’t stop his mind from filling in all the possible, horrible reasons they hadn‘t called. “No news is good news.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

“I, I want to keep the line free,” Leila said haltingly.

“Of course,” Kris said.

“But I’ll call you if I hear anything,” she promised.

“Thank you. Me, too.”

Kris didn’t think he’d hear anything, and he knew he didn’t want to see Leila’s number pop up on his screen. Kris wished he hadn’t let Cook hang up. He reconsidered calling his parents, just to have someone’s voice in his ear, but he wouldn’t be able to keep up a casual conversation, and they’d be able to tell that something was wrong and he couldn’t tell them what.

Kris dialed Adam’s number and put the call on speaker so he could listen to Adam’s voice. _Hey, it’s Adam, you know what to do._

Kris hung up and dialed again.

A knock on his window startled Kris and his thumb hit the end call button. He looked up, wondering if someone had noticed he’d been sitting in his car for a while and wondered if he needed help, but it was Cook. Kris opened the door and Cook stepped back so he could get out.

“Hey,” Kris said. “You made good time.”

From the look on Cook’s face, he hadn’t. Kris wondered how much time he’d lost track of while re-dialing Adam’s number.

“No news?” Cook asked.

Kris shook his head.

“Alright,” Cook said. He slid an arm around Kris’ back and Kris choked back a sob at the gesture. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No,” Kris said. He didn’t want to be in the house he shared with Katy, not when his marriage, as broken and fucked up as it was, was part of the reason he and Adam couldn’t be together openly. Was the reason they had to hide and sneak around. Was the reason Adam had flown into a private airfield so he and Kris could have a couple of days together.

“Okay,” Cook said. He walked Kris around to the passenger side and helped him in before going back around to the driver’s side.

Kris wanted to tell Cook that he could do it by himself, but he wasn’t certain it was true. He sat in the car and stared at his phone, wishing he could dial Adam again and listen to his voice without appearing crazy. He wished he’d saved some of the voice mails Adam had left him in the past, but it had always seemed too risky in case Katy got a hold of his phone again.

“It puts things in perspective,” Kris said.

Cook glanced at him, but didn’t push for more, and Kris let it drop. He hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, anyway. Kris remembered Adam’s voice, how frantic he’d sounded the first time they spoken after Kris’ car accident, and he understood now. The thought that he could’ve lost the most important thing in his life before he’d even really had it was almost too much to bear.

When he’d broken his wrist and needed three surgeries and still had to learn how to play the guitar differently, Kris thought he’d known, really known, how it felt to have his life turned upside down. He hadn’t known anything. Because this was it, this was his life twisted inside out and turned upside down.

Kris didn’t realize they’d reached their destination until Cook pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He looked up and recognized Cook’s house. Before Kris could protest that Cook hadn’t needed to bring him here, though where else he thought they might go he didn’t know, Cook spoke.

“Come on.”

Cook got out of the car before Kris could reply, so Kris opened the door and got out, too. He followed Cook up the driveway and into the house. A sense of comfort wrapped around him. This was what he’d needed, someplace he was familiar with, but not his own house where he’d remember every day where he’d been standing when . . .

Kris refused to finish that thought.

Cook led Kris through to the family room. “Have a seat,” he said as he continued on to the kitchen, returning with two cans of soda.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cook asked.

“I don’t want to think about it,” Kris said, glancing at his phone as if wishing hard enough would make it ring.

“Wanna talk about what you guys did the past couple of days?” Cook asked.

Kris gave Cook a look.

“Not like that, geeze,” Cook said. “I meant, where you guys holed up.”

Kris had borrowed a cabin on the lake. He’d brought up a cooler full of food and they’d eaten in, barely bothering to get dressed. They’d sat on the porch that looked out over the lake and cuddled on the swing. Kris had thought that maybe they could meet up there again, but now he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to think of those few days without them being colored by . . . this.

Kris shook his head.

“Alright,” Cook said. He turned the television on low. “Background noise,” he said. “I’m here if you want to talk. About anything.”

Kris nodded. It was a waiting game, and as much as he wished it were otherwise, nothing could take his mind off the fact that he might never see Adam again.

Kris stared blankly at the television while Cook scribbled something in a notebook. He thought about Adam’s laughter. He walked over to the window and looked out onto the backyard. He thought about Adam’s hands. He prayed, not for Adam, because if he’d been on that plane it was too late for that, but for the strength to handle whatever news the next phone call brought. The minutes dragged.

Kris jumped when Cook’s phone rang. Cook gave him an apologetic look, then took it into the other room to answer. As much as Kris dreaded the news, he wished his own phone would ring. He wondered why no one had called Leila yet, which led him to fruitlessly hoping that this was all one huge mistake, that Adam hadn’t been on that plane.

Kris sat back down and took a sip of soda that had gone warm. He stared at the television screen where someone new was cooking something that he didn’t care about. He was so surprised when his phone rang that he nearly dropped it. He caught it and held on to it, afraid to look at the screen.

“Kris,” Cook said gently.

Kris shook his head, as if that would clear away all the cobwebs, and looked at the screen. His chest squeezed his heart just a little bit tighter when he saw the **1** there. He steeled himself to look at the number. It wasn’t Leila’s number. It was Adam’s.

Kris quickly accepted the call, even as dread weighed heavily on his heart, and said, “Hello? Adam?”

“Kris?” Adam said. “What the heck is going on? I finally got service and about a dozen missed call notifications popped up. Are you alright?”

Kris couldn’t speak. Too many words and too many emotions were clogging his throat. He made a sound that was meant to be a laugh, because Adam was wondering if _he_ was alright, but it turned into a sob.

Which of course worried Adam. “Kris? Kris, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kris tried to say, “nothing, I’m . . .”

Cook took the phone out of Kris’ hand, and Kris didn’t fight him. “Hey, Adam, it’s David Cook,” Cook said into the phone. “Kris is fine, he’s just . . . relieved to hear from you.”

Relieved, Kris thought with an hysterical laugh. That was one word for what Kris was feeling, but it didn’t convey as much of a punch as Kris’ emotional roller coaster deserved.

“Here, let me just . . .” Cook put the call on speaker. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Adam said. “Why is Kris relieved?”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the news,” Cook said, “but there was an accident this afternoon. A small plane crashed soon after taking off from a private airfield. There were no survivors.”

“Oh my god,” Adam said. “No, Kris, I’m fine, baby, I’m fine, I swear, I’m sorry, I haven’t had service.”

“You didn’t get on the plane?” Kris managed. “Also, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Adam said. “No. In fact, I’m in a car right now, being driven to another airport. I waited around for an hour, but there was something wrong with the plane and they didn’t have another one available, so they made some calls and found me a plane at a different airport. I called Mom to let her know I was going to be late, and I was going to call you, but we were in the mountains and there was no service, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Kris . . .”

“It’s alright,” Kris said, his voice like glass in his throat. “It’s alright now,” he clarified.

Kris took the phone from Cook. “Where are you?” he asked, turning off the speaker as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Still in the car, but we’re out of the hills, which are not mountains, my driver tells me, so I think we’re almost there, wherever there is,” Adam said.

“Adam,” Kris said, “can you . . . ?”

“Anything, baby, anything,” Adam said.

There wasn’t a lake house to hide away in, or vague photos to post for plausible deniability, and Adam would probably have to cancel something, but Kris asked anyway. “Can you come back? Can you . . . I just . . .” Kris needed to see him, to touch him, needed to know this was real and not a dream.

“Yes, of course, but . . . Kris, are you sure?” Adam said.

“I’m sure,” Kris said. He’d spent the last few hours fearing that Adam was dead, thinking that he’d never see him again, feeling how empty the rest of his life would be without Adam in it.

“We won’t have . . .”

“I know,” Kris said. “I don’t care. I’m done, I’m done _hiding_ how I feel about you, I can’t do that anymore, not after . . .”

“You’re feeling emotional right now,” Adam said, and Kris could hear how he was trying to hide his hope behind being reasonable.

“I am,” Kris agreed, “but I’m not going to change my mind.”

“You know what happened last time,” Adam cautioned.

“I do,” Kris said. Katy had threatened to harm herself when Kris had an attorney draw up divorce papers six months after their move to Nashville, and so Kris had backed off. Again. But he couldn’t keep doing that, he couldn’t let Katy’s emotional well-being supercede his own, and he couldn’t keep doing this to Adam. “But you’re more important to me. We’ll figure something out.”

“If you’re sure,” Adam said.

“I am,” Kris said, hoping Adam could hear the conviction in his voice.

As horrible as the past few hours had been, at least one good thing had come out of it – the experience made Kris realize what was important. Had shown him what was real. What he needed to fight for.

“I am,” Kris said again, and saying so felt like freedom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone commented to my last fic (which is now the first chapter) that they’d love to see the reunion, and so I was inspired to write it.
> 
> Written: April 13, 2015

Kris was on pins and needles while he waited for Adam to arrive. He’d given Cook’s address to Adam because he didn’t want to meet Adam at the house he still shared with Katy. Cook was even kind enough to offer them the guestroom for a couple of days if they didn’t want to worry about getting a hotel room in a town where Kris might be a little better known than he was in LA, and having to sneak in.

After Kris disconnected the call so Adam could call Leila, he had been giddy with relief. He was just as likely to laugh excessively at something Cook said, or burst into tears. Possibly both. He supposed he could be excused after the emotional roller coaster of the past few hours.

Archie had come home and Cook had filled him in on the situation, and now they were both in the kitchen making supper. Kris had joined them for a few minutes, watching from the island because they assured him that there was nothing he could do to assist, but he hadn’t been able to sit still and wait. Finger tapping had led to knee bouncing until he’d given up and got up to walk around.

He kept looking out the front window for Adam’s car, even though he knew it would take at least an hour for Adam to make the return trip to Nashville. Then suddenly the wait was over. Kris’ heart danced in his chest and his breath caught in this throat when the Lincoln Town Car pulled to a stop and Adam got out with his overnight bag.

They were still trying to be a little bit discreet, so Cook went out to greet Adam and usher him into the house. Adam’s gaze went to the front window, as if he could sense Kris standing there, watching and waiting for him.

Kris didn’t even give Adam a chance to drop his bag (though Cook had thankfully shut the front door) before flinging himself into Adam’s arms. Adam caught him easily and said, “It’s alright, I’ve got you, I’m fine,” in Kris’ ear while Kris just _clung_ to him and tried not to break into tears again, even if they would be tears of joy this time, rather than grief and pain.

“I was so scared,” Kris finally managed to get out.

“I know,” Adam said. “It’s alright, I’m here now and I’m fine.”

“I know,” Kris said, “it’s just that . . .” He could still feel the terror from when he’d first seen the news report and hadn’t been able to get a hold of Adam. “. . . I can’t stop remembering what it felt like when I thought you were . . . gone,” Kris said, because he couldn’t make himself say ‘dead.’

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you believe that I’m real, and I’m here, and I’m alive,” Adam promised.

Kris let out a wet giggle.

“Pervert,” Adam said. “Didn’t we do enough of that the past few days?”

“There’s no such thing as enough,” Kris said. “Not with you.”

Which made Adam flush.

Before Kris could say anything else, Cook reappeared. “I put Adam’s bag in the guestroom. And don’t worry about making noise; there’s a reason the master is on the other end of the house.”

Now it was Kris’ turn to blush.

“Supper will be ready in about 45 minutes if you guys want to . . . freshen up,” Cook said with a knowing smirk.

“Freshening up sounds like a good idea,” Adam said.

“Take your time,” Cook said, leaving them for the kitchen where Kris heard Archie say, “That was mean,” and Cook’s, “But fun,” in reply.

Kris led Adam to the guestroom. He was familiar with it because he’d flopped there on more than one occasion when a writing session or a football game or a board game (Cook was scary good at Scrabble) ran late.

The moment the door was shut, Adam had Kris up against it, kissing him like their very lives depended on it. Kris kissed him back, throwing the whirlwind of emotions still swirling through him into it. Part of Kris thought he should feel embarrassed that Cook and Archie knew what they were doing, but he needed Adam’s touch too much to let it stop him. He pushed up Adam’s t-shirt so he could get his hands on bare skin. Adam moaned softly into the kiss and pressed a thigh between Kris’ legs, rutted against Kris’ hip.

“Wait,” Kris said, even though he had to force the word out.

Adam groaned. “What?”

“These are the only clothes I’ve got in here, I don’t want to cream my shorts like a teenager.”

“Hurry,” Adam said against Kris’ lips as he fumbled between them to unbutton and unzip his pants. Adam helped Kris shove his pants down over his hips, and then went to his knees and took Kris into his mouth.

Kris made a strangled sound in his throat as Adam’s talented tongue made his knees buckle. Kris only managed to stay upright because of Adam’s hand on his hips, and his own hand braced on Adam’s shoulder. Kris placed his other hand on the back of Adam’s head, just holding it there as Adam’s head bobbed on his dick.

Kris might’ve whimpered a little bit when Adam pulled off his cock and stood. Adam gave Kris’ hip a gentle swat.

“Get on the bed while I get the supplies.”

Kris kicked off his sneakers and knelt on the bed, still fully dressed if you counted the pants halfway down his thighs.

“Jesus,” Adam said when he looked over after retrieving lube and condoms from his bag. “Eager for it, are you?”

“Yes,” Kris groaned. “Now get over here and fuck me.”

“Demanding little shit, aren’t you?” Adam said as he ran a hand over Kris’ ass. “What if I want to go slow, hmm? Work my fingers inside you and stretch you so good.”

“I’m probably still wet and stretched from . . .” From their last goodbye fuck at the lake house.

“Let’s see,” Adam said, carefully pressing two fingers inside Kris. “Fuck,” Adam swore softly a the same time Kris moaned at the sensation of being filled with Adam’s fingers.

“All wet and ready for me, Kristopher?” Adam crooned as he moved his fingers deeper into Kris, and then pulled them all the way out, catching them on Kris’ rim – which Adam knew full well drove him crazy – before plunging them back inside him.

Kris keened as he fucked himself on Adam’s fingers as if he hadn’t just been fucked through the mattress (and then again bent over the deck railing looking out over the lake) that morning.

“Do me now, Adam!” Kris said impatiently when it appeared that Adam really was going to take his time.

“Do me now,” Adam repeated with a hint of amusement. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge. And also, you didn’t use the magic word.”

“Please!” Kris said immediately. “Fu-u-u-ck,” he drawled when Adam rubbed that spot inside him. “Adam, please, fuck me now!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Adam said, withdrawing his fingers and wiping them off on Kris’ ass.

Adam unzipped his boots and toed them off before unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans and pushing them down his hips. Kris watched avidly as Adam stroked his cock a few times before rolling the condom over it. Adam climbed onto the bed between Kris’ legs and squirted lube onto his fingers. He rubbed circles around Kris’ hole before pressing three fingers inside him.

“Are you sure you weren’t a Boy Scout?” Kris grumbled, or tried to. From Adam’s response it probably came out more like a whimper.

“Good things come to those who wait,” Adam teased, but he withdrew his fingers from Kris and wiped the excess lube on the condom.

One hand on Kris’ hip, Adam used the other to guide the head of his cock to Kris’ hole. Kris moaned at the slight burn of being stretched just that little bit further. Even though it took him a day or two to recover and not feel empty, he loved that proof that Adam had been there with him, no matter how infrequent or fleeting their time together. Or maybe because of it.

“Are you alright?” Adam asked, and Kris could hear the strain of holding back in his voice.

“Better if you got moving,” Kris said, which made Adam laugh even as he pressed the rest of the way inside him.

Kris tried to move, but Adam grabbed both hips and growled. “Stay still. Just . . . take it.”

Kris really did whimper then, no other word for it, but he did manage to relax and give up control to Adam, who pulled Kris back against him with every thrust, bottoming out in Kris and then teasing his rim before driving back inside him.

“Yes,” Kris said. “Yes, I need, I need, Adam . . .”

“I know, baby,” Adam said. “I’ve got you.”

Kris’ eyes burned, but he didn’t bother wiping away the tears. The box springs creaked and the headboard slammed into the wall a few times, so Kris hoped Cook hadn’t been lying about them making noise (though the flush on Archie’s cheeks when he and Adam joined them in the kitchen led Kris to believe that they’d heard enough to know that Kris and Adam had taken Cook up on offer to ‘freshen up’).

Kris knew he wasn’t going to last long, especially since Adam had had his mouth on him before he’d teased him with his fingers, but it was gratifying when Adam followed him over just a few thrusts later. Adam collapsed on Kris’ back while he caught his breath. Too soon he moved to carefully pull out and Kris missed the warm, safe feeling of being blanketed by Adam.

Adam tied off the condom and dropped it in the trash, returning from the ensuite with a warm washcloth he used to clean Kris up. Even though he didn’t want to move, he rolled to his side and used the cloth to wipe off his still-sensitive dick while Adam used paper towels to clean up most of the mess Kris had made on the quilt that covered the bed.

“I hope this wasn’t a family heirloom,” Adam said, taking the cloth from Kris and wiping at the spot some more.

Kris couldn’t help it, he laughed. Adam gave Kris a look like he was trying not to join in. Instead of returning to the bathroom, Adam laid on the bed next to Kris, both of them managing to fit on half of the bed so they could stay out of the wet spot. Kris chuckled again when he imagined what they must look like, both lying with their shirts on and their pants shoved down past their hips.

“What?” Adam said.

Kris shook his head, but something about the situation made him laugh harder. It must have come out a little bit hysterical because Adam took his hand and just held on to him until the laughter subsided.

“I can’t imagine what you went through when you couldn’t reach me,” Adam said.

“I thought about the car accident,” Kris admitted. “I didn’t realize how scary it could be from your point of view, not really.”

“It’s not the same,” Adam said. “I knew you were alive, at least, even if I didn’t know how badly you’d been hurt, or if I couldn’t be there.”

Kris threaded his fingers through Adam’s. There was so much he wanted so say, so many thoughts ping-ponging around in his head. What came out was, “I really feel like we should pull our pants up.”

Adam chuckled, and Kris thought it was mostly for his benefit and not because he’d said something overly amusing. Adam rolled off the bed and pulled up his pants, then gave Kris a hand up. When their clothing had been straightened and they didn’t look like they’d been doing exactly what they had been doing, Kris went into the bathroom to make sure his hair didn’t look like a hedgehog had slept in it.

Red rimmed eyes stared back at him out of a blotchy face when he looked in the mirror. “Wow,” Kris said, turning on the cold water so he could splash his face. No wonder Cook and Archie had kept shooting him worried looks.

“What?” Adam poked his head into the bathroom.

“I look like crap, man,” Kris said as he ducked his head and filled his cupped palms with water.

Adam waited until Kris straightened, water dripping off his chin, to say, “You always look beautiful to me.”

Kris gave Adam a look over the towel he was using to dry his face. He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but Adam looked so sincere, and Kris’ chest still ached from when he’d thought Adam might be dead and he couldn’t. Instead he said,”Me, too. I mean, you, to me, beautiful.”

Adam smiled, and reached for Kris’ hand. Kris let himself be pulled against Adam. He wrapped his free arm around Adam’s back and pressed his face to Adam’s chest. His eyes burned and he huffed derisively.

“Sorry, I don’t know why . . .” Kris knew that Adam was safe, held the very real proof of it in his arms, but the emotions were like a maelstrom inside him, continuing to build up until he sprung a quite literal leak.

“It’s alright,” Adam said. “I mean, I don’t want you to be upset, but it’s okay if you are.”

Kris pulled away to blow his nose and splash his face again. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” Adam said gently.

Kris wanted to tell Adam everything he was feeling, all the regrets he’d had when he’d feared that Adam was dead, all the promises he’d made to himself when he’d heard Adam’s voice and realized he had a second (third) chance to make things right, but he couldn’t blame Adam for being the slightest bit wary of decisions made in the throes of emotion.

“Tomorrow,” Kris agreed, though he knew that time wouldn’t change how he felt, the decisions he’d made. He folded the towel and set it on the edge of the sink. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you okay to go out there?” Adam said.

“I think so,” Kris said. It wasn’t as if Cook hadn’t already seen him cry, not to mention red and blotchy.

Kris would’ve felt ridiculous for clinging to Adam’s hand if Adam hadn’t been clutching his just as tightly. Adam didn’t let go when he thanked Cook and Archie for letting them use the guestroom, and for taking care of Kris. Kris couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed that he’d fallen apart so thoroughly, especially when Cook squeezed his shoulder and said, “Not a problem. I know I’d have needed someone if I thought anything had happened to Archie.”

Archie blushed and said, “Aww, gosh, Cook,” which took some of the attention off Kris.

They all sat around the table to eat. The food that Cook and Archie had prepared looked and smelled good, but Kris only picked at it because everything sat too heavy in his stomach.

Cook and Archie shooed them out of the kitchen while they did clean-up. Kris felt bad being such horrible guests, but he dragged Adam back to the guestroom where they laid down on top of the quilt and just held each other. Kris rested his head on Adam’s chest and listened to his heartbeat, enjoyed the warmth and sense of safety being held in Adam’s arms brought him.

“Hey,” Adam said after a few minutes. “What are you thinking about?”

“My to-do list,” Kris said. He knew Adam didn’t want to talk about it, not yet, but Kris couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Kris . . .”

“I know, I know you don’t want to talk about it yet.” Kris played with the rings on Adam’s fingers. “But I’m going to do it this time,” he said. “I’ve already waited too long. Made _you_ wait too long.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” Adam said. He sounded a little bit bitter, but Kris knew that was his fault, because Adam had been burned before by Kris, who had put Katy, his parents, his church . . . his fear, ahead of Adam, ahead of his own feelings.

“I have a lot of regrets,” Kris said, “and all of them have to do with not being honest about how I feel about you. When I thought . . .” Kris paused to collect himself. “When I thought that regret was all I’d have left, well, it put things in perspective.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Adam said, and Kris could tell that he was trying not to get his hopes up because they’d been here before.

“No,” Kris agreed, thinking about the roadblocks that would be set in their way. “It won’t be easy, and some of it’s really going to suck. But being able to hold your hand in public, and, and, Jesus, just talk about you, about *us*! It’ll be worth it.”

“You know I’ll do anything,” Adam said, pressing a kiss to the top of Kris’ head.

“I know,” Kris said. “And I’m really going to need your moral support.” He thought about the envelope from his attorney that he’d hidden at the bottom of a box of kitchen gadgets that had never been unpacked after the move. “But the next step is up to me.”

The End


End file.
